Like Daughters Like Fathers
by Cyanide-Ocean
Summary: Holidays are always stressful, but a holiday with both Aubrey, Beca and their fathers makes it the most taxing.


Mr. Posen's clench of his jaw made it all the more evident that he and Mr. Mitchell were not seeing eye to eye. Beca sunk down in her chair to make herself as small as possible when her father turned to her and nudged her sharply to sit up straight. The entire night had gone from awkward to tense with everyone knowing it was likely that an argument would break out at any second. As if everyone had hear the others' thoughts, Aubrey's and Beca's fathers instantly began to bicker about education, grades, achievements that their daughters had made and had yet to make as they tried to one-up the other. They hadn't even made it more than a few minutes into the main course before the men were raising their voices at one another, slamming their fists down on the tabletop causing the silverware to rattle.

Aubrey downed her glass of wine and reached over for the bottle to refill it until one drink became three.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" Beca arched an eyebrow at her as she watched the blonde knock the wine back and began to pour herself more. "That's, like, your fourth glass now."

"Do you want to sit through this sober?" Aubrey shot back as the wine sloshed against the thin walls of the glass

"Or instead of getting completely hammered, though I think it's kind of too late for that, we could go out. I don't know about you, but I'm starving and I don't think we're going to get much eating done here," she motioned to their fathers with her thumb.

"So then where do you propose we go out, Ms. Mitchell?" Aubrey drawled, staring at her until she was given a reply.

"Let's go out for Chinese - I've been craving it lately."

"That's not very Thanksgiving-typical food," the older woman frowned.

"Do you have a better idea?" The freshman crossed her arms.

Aubrey let out a sigh as she chugged her drink and set the glass down. "No, let's go," she mumbled, standing up.

"Where do you think you're going?" Mr. Posen eyed her suspiciously.

"Out," Aubrey replied angrily.

"You're drunk. I'm disappointed," he remarked.

"When are you not?" she rolled her eyes, the alcohol giving her the courage (or stupidity) to say what was on her mind when at any other time she wouldn't have dared to give her father an attitude.

"Damn, you're sassy when you're drunk," Beca laughed, but shut her mouth the instant Mr. Posen shot her a death glare.

"Let them go out and enjoy the rest of the holiday," Mr. Mitchell sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"You are not the father of my daughter," Mr. Posen began, the rest of his sentence being lost to both Aubrey and Beca as they took advantage of the time he was distracted returning to his arguing with Mr. Mitchell to slip out of the house.

"Is your dad always that uptight?" Beca asked once they were seated at a table in a nearby Chinese restaurant, the walk there spent with mostly telling the freshman stories of of what it was like living with a father who always pushed her to do better, never once told her he loved her nor was ever proud of her, and only highlighted her flaws and shortcomings, telling her she needed to strive for better - to be perfect.

"Pretty much," Aubrey shrugged as they picked up their menus.

"Sheila, the step-monster is like that. Maybe not quite so harsh, but she has no problem voicing her constant displeasure with me," the brunette rolled her eyes.

"Step-monster?"

"Oh, yeah, that's what I call her since I can't stand her. She's like a milder version of your dad."

"Parents - or step-parent in your case - what would we do without them always reminding us of how we're a disappointment," Aubrey smirked, giving a hollow laugh.

The pair spent the rest of the night like that; eating Chinese food and talking about their families, their childhoods - life - until the restaurant needed them to leave soon so they could close.

"You're not a disappointment," the corner of the younger woman's lips twitched into a brief smirk as she pulled out her wallet, pushing Aubrey's away with her other hand as she paid for their food.

"So chivalrous," Aubrey noted with an impressed smile, "I am according to my father, but thank you anyway for the sentiment."

"If it counts for anything, even though at rehearsals I'm a pain in your ass and you frustrate me a lot, I still like you as you are."

"Aren't you such a charmer, Ms. Mitchell," the older blonde giggled.

"I'm serious, Aubrey," Beca frowned, "I'm not just saying that to make you feel better although that's a plus too if what I said does that as well."

Aubrey chuckled as she stood up, shrugging on her jacket as Beca did the same, and walked out the door with the brunette behind her. They walked at a leisurely pace as neither of them were in any rush to return to the chaos back at the freshman's house, without saying a word and instead let the serene quiet of the night hang over them.

"I'm surprised you came over for Thanksgiving," Beca finally spoke up.

"Me too. I wasn't expecting an invitation," the older Bella hummed.

"I didn't expect to invite you. I mean," she tripped over her words once she realized how her initial statement sounded as if she hadn't wanted to offer for the older blonde and her father to join her and her own father that year for the holiday. In fact the entire invitation had happened out of the blue at the end of one of her usual arguments with the other Bella as a kind of elaborate apology. "I don't regret it. It's good you came since it'd be awkward if it'd been just me and my dad since Shiela's away for some business meeting or something." She furrowed her brow, still unsatisfied with how her words were coming out. "What I'm trying to say is I'm happy you came - it's been nice. I think I should try to get you drunk more often," she added to keep from sounding too emotional.

"So you can try to take advantage of me? Geez, I see how it is," Aubrey grinned. She hadn't ever really been one to flirt, leaving that to Chloe who was a natural at it, blaming the lingering buzz as she was slowly sobering up for it.

"I wouldn't have to get you drunk for that. I'd use my sarcastic wit and chivalry to charm you," she laughed. When she felt Aubrey lace her fingers with her own, her cheeks began to burn as a deep blush bloomed in her cheeks and hoped she could get away with blaming the cold weather for it, though knew Aubrey would see right through her lie.

Looking up at the older blonde, she could see the pleased smile on her face as stopped, and tugged on her hand for her to do the same. Aubrey leaned down and kissed Beca lightly.

"Maybe you're not so bad after all, Beca Mitchell," Aubrey grinned when she'd pulled away.


End file.
